Sweet Dreams
by Hotaru-Kichi
Summary: Just a little one-shot/drabble collection. I did the first one a long time ago, and I decided to post it since it was Valentines...
1. Sweet Dreams

**A/N:**

**So, I've always wanted to put up a cute story for Valentine's. I just never thought I would be putting up a story that has nothing to do with Valentine's on the 14th, neither that it would be this short. I didn't think it would be a drabble-ish one-shot either, but I guess this is what I get for not practicing on writing longer stories. I guess I'm too lazy. I didn't really bother with checking the grammar or spelling in this either, so if you notice that something is wrong, don't be afraid to tell me - I'd like to get it right, even if it's just a one-shot (but as I stated earlier, I'm too lazy to check it myself).**

**Great, now my author note is longer than the one-shot...**

**_Disclaimer: _**_Yeah, so... I don't own anything here, except the plot. If there is a plot. Fml._

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><p>Recently, it's happened more often than I want to think about. Ever since that final battle against the last kishin-egg, Soul has started to have nightmares. Horrible nightmares that makes him scream, hit and kick things in his sleep. It's been keeping me awake at night. It's not his screams that keep me awake. It's <em>knowing<em> that he is facing fears and horrid creatures alone. My soul trembles at the feeling of him fighting alone, not letting me see the monsters of his dreams.

The apartment is eerily quiet as of now, hopefully for the rest of the night. I crawl underneath my duvet, hiding my head and pull my pillow to my chest and pull my knees up. I love sleeping like this, because it gives me some kind of feeling of protection. When I sleep like this, I feel that I'm protecting my soul and heart, and that gives me a secure, warm feeling. However, ever since Soul started having those nightmares, I don't feel so safe any more. We're connected by soul, after all, so when his soul is feeling something, my soul also get pieces of that feeling.

I close my eyes and try to rest. Whenever a thought that Soul might be having nightmares come up in my mind, I push it to the back of my head, telling myself it's been a long time since last time. _Five days, to be exact_, a small voice in my head tells me as I try to sleep. After some emptying my head of thoughts, relaxation embraces my body and slumber finally welcomes me. Eventually, the world is starting to turn black, and I can't take in my surroundings any more.

Suddenly, my chest starts to ache, and a scream of horror and desperation fills the air. This makes my senses pull my head out of it's drowsy, half-asleep state. In a swift movement, mostly because of being tired, afraid and caught in the moment, I throw away my duvet and leap out of bed, almost crashing into the door frame after opening the door. I stumble into the hallway. The floor is cold, hard and sharp underneath my warm feet. This urges me forward. I trip as I try to force open Soul's bed room door, but after a little struggling with the handle – and my wobbling legs, for that matter – the door finally swing open in front of me.

I walk abruptly into the room, watching with growing anger at Soul's frantic attempt to get away from his nightmares. His white hair is itching to his damped head – sweat drops are evident on his forehead – adding to the feeling of being helplessly watching. I hate his nightmares. I hate them so much. But right, now, Soul is suffering. I hate watching Soul like this. Moreover, I'm sick of watching him suffer. I want to take part in his dream and kick the creature that's causing this' ass. But I can't, so I have do to something different. I use a few seconds to decide what to do.

"Move over," I order him as I crawl under his duvet, embrace him and shush him down. He's struggling a little, but I can feel his tensed muscles relaxing more and more in the next passing moment. I don't know how long time it took, but he's calm now. I feel his arms wrap around me. When I look up, he's awake, staring down at me with one crimson eye open.  
>"Maka."<br>The way he whispers my name is sending shivers down my spine and making my heartbeat speed up. I nod. His voice is husky, and it's making me feel weird.  
>"Thank God," he whispers as he pulls me closer. I wonder why this feels okay with me? I <em>did<em> crawl into his bed, but only to calm him down. I don't bother to think about it thoroughly, though. Instead, I settle in his arms and sigh in relief. I kind of surprised to find that he does the same.

_"You didn't die."_

I nod again. I'm starting to have the same feeling I have when sleeping under my duvet with my feet pulled up and my pillow at my chest. In Soul's arms, in his bed, of all places.  
>"I'm breathing, and I'm worried about you," I inform him, then close my eyes and take in his scent, warmth and kindness. He's gentle as he strokes my sandy blond hair. "So don't have any more nightmares," I demand. I'm welcoming this situation with open arms. I can fall asleep right here, and I won't chop him tomorrow if he's still holding me. Soul is nodding. He is drenched of power, I can feel it, but as sleep is once again welcoming us, I feel this brief connection between our souls becoming bigger, stronger and deeper. My chest swells with happiness. The safe feeling I get in my soul when sleeping under my duvet with my feet pulled up and my pillow at my chest is disappearing. Instead, I feel such a force of courage, protection and <em>love<em> that I'm afraid my soul might burst my chest open and fly away. I open my eyes to look into Soul's eyes one last time. They are shining with the same emotions I'm feeling right now. After that, I feel myself drifting. I welcome sleep happily, clenching to the back of the t-shirt Soul is wearing and cuddling closer to him.

"Sweet dreams, Soul."  
>"I won't be able to sleep with you in my bed, stupid. Oi, Maka!"<p>

"Shut up and accept it."

"..."

"Yeah, good night."

And after that, Soul stopped having nightmares.

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><p><strong>~ Kristina L.<strong>

(Yay, L 3 I noticed just now. F*** Yeah, _Death Note_)


	2. Sore

**A/N:**

**Heya folks! I decided to continue writing some short stories. This particular one was written in twenty minutes, and I feel that the ending is a little... meh. Anyways, I decided to try submitting this to see if people like it. If they don't, then I've failed as a rooky FanFictioner. **

**I think I was focusing a little too much on something else when I wrote this, so maybe the things they say are a little cheesy. I dunno. And they're probably a bit OOC. Just as a warning.**

**I was inspired to write this while listening to "_Eyesore_" by _Maria Mena_, who was struggling with her past as an anorexic and bulemic when she wrote the song.**

**They're about 25 when this fic takes place. Thought I should add that...**

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><p><em><strong>Sore<strong>_

She stared at her own reflection. She looked so... empty. What was wrong with her? She was on the right path, she was becoming just what she had wanted to become. Just a little more, and she would-

**"**Maka?"

She waited, then flushed the toilet, gave herself a last stare in the mirror and unlocked the door. She stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind herself. She walked down the hall towards the living room and perked her head around the corner.**  
><strong>**"**So you're finally back?"

He opened his left eye and stared at her. She stared back down at him, and he started to smile.**  
><strong>**"**Yeah. I'm back," he answered, closing his eye again and grabbing her hand. "I missed you." He lead her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers lightly.**  
><strong>**"**Have you been eating right?" he asked, opening his eyes and looking curiously up at her. She avoided his gaze and nodded.**  
><strong>**"**Yeah..."

Sitting up, he tried meeting her gaze. "Look me in the eye and say that."**  
><strong>She looked at his face and focused in his eyebrows that were partly hidden by his bangs. She'd learned this trick many months ago, a few weeks after she started with this. Looking at a persons forehead or eyebrows would seem like you were having eye-contact to the other party.**  
><strong>**"**I've been eating right, just like I promised."

**"**Good," he praised, then rose up and put his hand on her forehead. "Then, next question: did you stop doing 'that'?" Her eyes darted to his feet, then back up. It was too late - he'd already seen her reaction.

**"**Maka, you need to stop doing this!"**  
><strong>**"**Don't touch me! I can do whatever I want to! This is my body!"**  
><strong>**"**That's-!"**  
><strong>**"**Stop it! Leave me alone!"**  
><strong>He released her arms and pressed his hands against the wall on either side of her head. His gaze was burning holes in her eyes. She felt like he was pouring acid over her - she was hurting under his hard glare.**  
><strong>**"**How can you keep doing this to yourself?"**  
><strong>**"**It's alright. _I'm _alright."**  
><strong>**"**_No_, you're _not_!" he burst out, smashing his fist against the wall. "You're _not_alright, Maka. You're not."**  
><strong>She looked away and closed her eyes. If she pretended she was somebody else, maybe this would go away. She wasn't Maka Albarn. She didn't want to be her anymore. She wanted to be someone else, anyone that wasn't her. Someone that didn't have to go through this.

**"**I hate it when you do that."**  
><strong>She didn't answered, just closed herself even further into her own imaginary world.**  
><strong>**"**Maka, listen to me!" he growled. She snapped out of it, looked at him with eyes tearing up.**  
><strong>**"**I know you're hurting. I know. But I'm hurting, too. I know that losing it was tough for you, but it broke me as well. But doing this," he said, touching her ribs and knocking his forehead against hers gently, "doesn't help. It makes it worse. If you keep doing this to yourself, we might never..."**  
><strong>He stopped and breathed deeply. Tears forced their way out of the corners of her eyes.

**"**I know that," she sobbed and lead her hands up to her eyes, trying to dry her tears away. "I know that doing this won't make it better. I know that I'm just making the chances for a new try minimize even more," she cried and started to shake. "What should I do, Soul? I'll never get it back! It feels like I'll never get to-"**  
><strong>She stopped herself from speaking any further by covering her mouth with her hands and leaning onto his forehead. He hushed her down and wrapped his arms around her frame. It seemed even more fragile than when he left a week ago.

**"**I won't go on any more missions. I'll stay with you. We have to work this out. If you keep doing this, you might-" He paused, then changed his sentence: "We'll get over this, and we'll try again. I won't let it break you like this," he whispered, and she nodded. His hands trailed over her bony shoulders and ribs, then he pulled her closer and kissed her behind her ear.

**"**This sore on our hearts won't go away," she whispered. Shaking his head, he kissed her at the same spot.**  
><strong>**"**It will never be completely okay," she said a little louder, her voice starting to burst. "No, it won't."**  
><strong>Her skinny arms wrapped around his neck.

**"**But with time," he mumbled into her ear as her tears started falling again, "it won't hurt so much. One day when we've gotten over this and your arms are wrapped around a small being, it won't hurt us anymore. It will only be a sad memory of something that didn't get to exist."**  
><strong>She started to sob again, and he stroke her hair.

**"**First, you have to get better," he whispered, and she nodded, "then we'll try again. And next time, it won't happen again. We'll never lose another one, I promise. Just let me know if you're ready for this. If not-" She nodded again and closed her eyes. They stood there for a while, just holding onto each other.**  
><strong>**"**But I'd be happy of you wanted to, you know, start right away."

She nodded and smiled weakly. "Okay."

**"'**Cause your boobs keep getting smaller when you do this."

**"**YOU PERVERT!"

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><p><strong>Okay, so I absolutely<em> couldn't<em> have them be so mushy and sad throughout the whole thing. I regret it, but I really didn't know how to end this...**

**And for those of you that didn't understand what this is about:**

**Maka was having a baby, but had a miscarriage. She became depressed and started to feel bad about herself, so she started throwing up after every meal. Soul has tried helping her, but she lies to him, etc, etc...**

**Hope it wasn't _too _confusing.**


	3. Reward

_**A/N: I'm on a roll, people! **_

**_Although this is short, I really like how it came out. Though, I think I might have exaggerated their personalities a little._**

**I do not own any of the characters in this fanfiction (damn-it).**

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><p><em><strong>Reward<strong>_

**"**How awesome am I? Tell me, you know you want to. I'm really cool, and you just got to admit it. Where's my reward?"

Maka Albarn, a young girl at sixteen, currently a second star Meister at Shibusen Academy, glared at her partner and weapon, Soul "Eater" Evans. He had actually made her dinner when it was actually her turn to make dinner – yes, creepy, right? - and now he was bragging about it. Sure, Maka was happy that he'd actually bothered with making it, and it tasted delicious. But he was such a braggart.

**"**The food was great, Soul," she confirmed, which made his smirk grow even bigger, "but I won't give you a reward."

**"**Oh really now?" he said, staring her down. "And why won't you?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

**"**You know what," she rose up, carried her plate to the sink and turned the water on, "I like it when you manage to pull things like these off, Soul. It's when you start bragging that I stop being impressed."

**"**Well, you don't praise me unless I make a big deal out of it," Soul complained as Maka started rinsing her plate under the hot water.

"What do you mean? I always praise you. I feel like I'm a dog owner sometimes."

**"**Because you always scold me for things I say or do."

**"**Soul, are you secretly a woman? You stopped making sense just now. How did me not giving you a reward result in this conversation, anyway?"

Soul silenced and looked out the window in the living room from his seat in the kitchen.

**"**I was happy, really happy. Because you went all out like this," Maka said, turning the water off and turning towards him while leaning her hands on the edge of the sink behind her. She was referring to the neat job he had done with the table and arrangements of the food. It had actually seemed a bit professional. Soul didn't look directly at her, just sort of turned his face toward her and looked at something else.

**"**Do you really want a reward that much?" He nodded and looked up at her. Oh no. Not the puppy-eyes. Anything but the puppy-eyes! Maka tried staring him down, but his gaze became even wider. She sighed and walked over to him.

**"**What do you want? Candy? A hug? A pat on the head? What?" He didn't answer, just gazed at her with the same look. If Maka's hunch was right, she would have to...**  
><strong>Maka bent down and moved closer. Soul closed his eyes halfway as their faces came closer. The look in his eyes made Maka hold her breath. She had decided to just hug him, but suddenly she felt like that wouldn't be enough. In a swift movement, she leaned in closer and placed her lips on his cheek. Soul stiffened for a second, then, when she parted from him and straightened her back, he relaxed and looked away.

**"**M-maybe that sort of thing isn't a reward..." Maka muttered and looked away, blushing. Soul shook his head, and Maka looked at him. She was almost certain she saw him smiling for a second.

"That was the definition for a reward," he whispered. This, Maka didn't hear.

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><p><em><strong>AN: Random randomity**  
><em>


	4. Sober

_**A/N: Still going strong! **_

_**I don't know what is wrong with me. Suddenly getting really inspired and just writing something like I've been doing the past month is really unlike me. Seriously. Wat. Anyway, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank those who've reviewed, fav'ed and alerted. I mean, seriously, thank you. I'm really happy seeing that people actually like my random scribblings and sudden urges to write something down. 'Yar scurvy hearties, it warms me heart!**_

_**I wrote this down after planning my birthday party and a "pirate party" with my best friend ('cuz I always end up dragging her home after parties because she gets drunk and I don't). So to tell the truth, this is inspired by the feelings I have for my friend when I take her home after partying (except for some of the stuff here... Gotta keep 'em fluffies thar, you know :3). And the part at the beginning doesn't count for my feelings for her. I don't hate my friend's guts. I love her to pieces, even though she is a weird, random, cheery, "huuuuh?"-ing drunk. **_

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><p><em><strong>Sober<strong>_

Maka hated Soul's way of smirking. She hated the way he moved, the way he always - without fail - got into trouble, the way he messed her head up, the way his hands felt, the way she felt. She hated his way of always getting her to do what he wanted. She hated his guts. But if there was one thing Maka hated above anything else regarding Soul, it was the way he became after downing three shots of Tequila, a big glass of beer, loads of glasses of Rum with Coke and various other liquids that makes ones brain go numb.

Frankly speaking, Maka liked Soul much better when he wasn't gulping down liquid after liquid, when she didn't have to stop him from beating someone up just because that someone was looking in their direction, and when she didn't have to deal with his rambling and sudden emotional , it was fun for him while the toxins were running through his body. But was it really worth the few hours of fun, only to end up half-asleep on the bathroom floor with drool dripping from his mouth? And now she could add that to her list of things she hated about Soul: she especially disliked him when he was complaining and moaning about the ordeal of his hangover the day after.

**"**Maka~ I love you!" Soul declared repeatedly as she supported him while walking down the street. She just snorted in response. She was mad at him. Why was it always Soul that got to get drunk, have fun and then have a hangover, while she never got to do that? One day, she would put _him_in her position - make _him_do the same things for _her_as she did for him when he was drunk. _Just you wait, Soul! It's my turn next time! _

Maka's heels were starting to kill her, but not as much as Soul was starting to kill her. Why had she decided to come along this time, just like she'd done countless times before? She knew how the evening would end; Soul - drunk. Maka - guardian. Wait, the reason for her to tag along... She eyed her partner. He looked up in that moment and gave her a smile that made it seem like he was some sort of hero, straight from the battle field, barely survived the fight. She paused and met his gaze, then blushed and turned away. The reason was the rest of her friends, definitely the rest of her friends!

**"**Walk on your own for a while," she mumbled and lifted his arm - previously hoisted around her neck - above her head and placing it at his side. Soul became quiet after that, except for a few groans and grunts every now and then. Maka was annoyed at him, but didn't tell him so. _Keep walking, don't look back at him, don't let him think even for a second that you feel bad for him_. Suddenly, a hand was closed around her wrist, and she was pulled backwards. A warm arm was wrapped around her waist, making her jump forward, trying to make him release her.

**"**Maka..." Soul whispered and yanked her back to him by the wrist, making her trip in her heels and crash into his chest. "I love you," he mumbled as she looked up at him with her eyebrows knitted together and her mouth forming into a downwards arc. She didn't believe him. If he loved her so much, why didn't he say so even _once_when he _wasn't_intoxicated? Why didn't he pull her closer at some point _then _and show her his feelings?

**"**I know, I know," she answered, trying to break free. Soul trapped her inside his arms and looked down at her with drowsy, red eyes. His breath was stinky from alcohol, and Maka hated it. Alcohol didn't smell that bad until it had gone down Soul's throat.

While Maka was distracted with trying to escape, Soul leaned down and held her even tighter. **  
><strong>**"**I love you," he mumbled, his voice going dreamy and slow. Before Maka could reply, his lips was on her. She fought him for a second, then stopped as his grip loosened and he put his hand on top of her head. He was clumsy - almost cute - for a few moments, then the kiss ended abruptly, and Soul pulled quickly away. **  
><strong>**  
><strong>Maka stood in complete silence as he threw up behind a bush a few meters away. When he was done, she walked over to him, pulled out a handkerchief, dried his face and helped him up. Slipping off her black high heeled shoes and picking them up, she steadied Soul. Then they headed home. The whole way, Soul would keep muttering to her that he loved her, and she would never believe him.

Maka definitely hated Soul the most when he wasn't sober.

**_End. (?)_**

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><p><strong><em>AN: Yeah, I know that Maka doesn't really hate Soul. And yes, they are old enough to drink in this fic._**

**_I don't really know what I wanted to get across with this. Maybe the hurt feeling you get when a person you care about tells you they love you only when they're drunk? Or was it the feeling of anger that you get? Hm... You know what, I'll let you guys guess for yourselves. Maybe I remember what it was later..._**

**_I might decide to make this a two-shot, just to see what my brain has in store for Soul if Maka becomes the drunk one. I'd like to get some opinions on this, so please tell me if you'd like me to make it a two-shot :) _**


	5. Monster draft

**A/N: Okay guys, I want to set this straight - I've had a really rough time lately with exams and trouble in the department of boys, so I haven't been able to come up with any stories at all, and I haven't been able to write a sequel to the latest chapter. I just can't seem to focus on it...**

**So instead, I am going to post a draft that I've been working on. I was thinking about turning it into a story, preferably with my own characters that have their own personalities (I think I was focusing quite a lot on that when writing this, so the characters might be a little off or lacking in their usual way of acting and speaking). I might even decide to write the whole thing - I have the whole plot worked out in my head - and post it online.**

**This is just a draft, however. I just want to get it out here to show you guys that I'm still alive and writing, although I haven't uploaded in a LONG TIME. I hope to get some opinions on my draft as well, to see if it interests people.**

**And just so you know, I haven't worked out a title yet, so I just decided to (for now) call it:**

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><p><strong>Monster<strong>

She was onto something. The trail was fresh, and she knew she was close to catching the creature she was after. A little longer, and it would be over. She would receive her money, and the horrendous killings would end. If the person she was targeting was the right one.  
>She saw it. A dark shadow that sprung into an alley. She sped up and readied her gun, before almost throwing herself into the alley. To her shock, it was empty. It was a dead end, yet the shadow that she'd seen was gone.<p>

"I lost him."

"_Copy that._"

She put her walkie-talkie back in the lining of her pants, then sighed and put her gun back in it's holster. She was about to turn around, when something flashed dangerously under her chin.

"Looking for something, Mrs. Detective?"

She froze. This voice and feeling was forever going to be etched into her mind. She felt her hands tremble as the cold blade of the steel above her chest stroke gently against her throat.

"It's..." She swallowed and leaned against the figure behind her to get further away from the blade.

"It's Miss, mind you," she whispered, fighting the limp of fear in her throat.

"Please repeat that, it's seems my hearing is rather bad tonight."

"It's... Miss Detective. I'm not married."

Shit, her voice was starting to get shaky. If luck was on her side, he wouldn't catch that fact and use it against her. What was she thinking? This guy had everything against her. He could slit her throat, and her voice shaking wouldn't have anything to do with it. At least she had two things covered now: The suspect was a male, and he had or was a weapon. Wait, she had three things covered: the suspect smelled of something sweet, oddly enough.

"Miss Detective, what might you be doing out on such a dangerous evening?" the male whispered into her ear, close enough for her to feel his breath. It was warm, but it still gave her chills, as if she was cold.

"S-Searching for someone," she answered, her voice cracking at the last word.

"For who? A man, maybe?" She could almost feel his smirk. It disgusted her.

"For me, perhaps?"

"Yes. I was searching for you," she answered quickly and swallowed.

"Why? I'm just a normal guy that happened to come across a woman with a decapitated head in an alley."

"You're... Going to kill me?"

A small laugh rose in her ear, then a pair of soft lips trailed a soft kiss along her jaw. She caught a small glimpse of blond, white or maybe gray in the corner of her eye. Light hair, huh? As afraid as she was, the kisses sent shivers down her spine, and she fought the gasps for air that she so desperately wanted to take.

"No, I won't kill you. Calm down, princess, I won't hurt you. You're interesting, so I'll leave it like this. I'm looking forward to this cat-and-mouse chase, miss Detective," the man whispered, smiling playfully and wickedly.

"But to make things a bit more interesting..." He forced her to turn around. The upper half of his face was masked and his body and most of his hair was clothed in a dark red cloak.

"I'm going to force a kiss on you." She widened her eyes in shock as he pushed her against the wall and leaned in closer. His nose touched hers, and she started to shiver with adrenalin and some kind of excitement she quite couldn't grasp the meaning of.

"Be prepared, miss Detective," he whispered. Before she managed to fight him, his lips clashed onto hers and forced her to stay still. This is my chance, she chanted in her mind. Reaching for her gun, she felt herself slowly giving in to him. What was wrong with her? This was a criminal serial killer, a person that would turn into a Kishin because of devouring too many human souls. She couldn't let herself be moved by this... thing that devoured her mouth with a kiss. If she wasn't careful, he might devour all of her. But Geez, why did this criminal have to be so darn good at kissing?

Her hand flashed. Two shots firing. Empty shots. Looking up, she saw the shadow of his cape disappear to the top of a roof. Superhuman powers were supposedly one of his traits.

"I think I found some valuable information about our killer – and possibly a suspect. Returning to station."

"_Received. Oh, and there's a message from someone that wants to meet you_."

"Don't tell me..."

"_No, you're in luck. You seem to have an admirer, Detective M. Albarn._"

"Heh, I don't really need one. They're so troublesome."

"_Ahaha, I guess you're right. But he seemed like a well-mannered person, so I don't think you have anything to fea_r."

Maka ignored the nervous tone at the other end while her assistant laughed.

"That doesn't really matter," Maka sighed and took a right turn down a empty path.

"Anyway, I'm there in five minutes. I could use a cup of tea, if it's not too much trouble."

"_Oh, that's fine, I'll make some for us right away. See you in five_."

"'K, thanks. Bye."

Maka sped up her pace a little. She wasn't scared or anything, but she'd rather not bump into someone right now – she was still a little shaky from the happening before. She suddenly realized something. Stopping and putting up a disgusted face, she touched her lips with her fingertips. Her lips had been stolen by a suspect for murdering and eating human souls, and in such an obvious mocking way, too. It wasn't her first kiss. Her first kiss was something she had given voluntarily to her first love - a love she had yet to get over. She wanted to scream or hit something, preferably the shit-knot that had kissed her, but she contained herself. There were people here, after all, and probably people in the surrounding houses that were sleeping soundly.  
>It wasn't late – only 10 pm – but it was really dark outside because of the season. It was late Autumn, and the sun went to sleep much earlier now. It was rather cold, too. Maka sped up once again.<p>

-*- (SPACE, why won't you stay there?)

"Ah, boss, right on time!"

Maka stepped into her tidy office and was greeted by her assistant Tsugumi Harudori – a Weapon and professional Detective assistant. This particular girl was very cheerful, and seemed to enjoy Maka's company a lot. Maka had also noticed that Tsugumi would sometimes mimic her hairstyles and clothing styles, but she had yet to ask her about the reason for this. Today was one of these kinds of days where Tsugumi was wearing her hair very similar to how Maka had worn it a few days ago.

"Here's your tea, just like you usually have it," Tsugumi said cheerily while placing the cup on the desk.

"So, you found out some things about a possible suspect?"

Maka nodded and sipped her tea lightly.

"I think I bumped into him in an alley."

Tsugumi rushed over to her laptop, then came scooting back to Maka's office. She placed herself neatly in the customer's chair on the other side of Maka's desk, wrote down a few sentences, then looked up at Maka. Tsugumi's eyes were glittering with participation.

"He was wearing a red cape and a mask. And he smelled of some sort of sweet scent, kind of like strawberries."

Tsugumi hammered loose on her computer tablet.

"Wait, strawberries? How do you know that?"

Maka almost coughed up her tea, but managed to force it down. Leaving out the part about him kissing her would probably be for the best.

"Er... The scent was really strong, you could smell it from afar," she quickly answered, then filled her mouth with more tea to avoid having to say any more.

"Anything else?"

"Light hair, I believe. It was a young man, not old, and he is possibly a weapon, just like yourself."

"Ok..." Tsugumi said while tapping in the last sentences on her computer.

"Sorry, I've got some things to check up right now. I'll leave this here," Tsugumi said, nodding towards the teapot on a tray on top of Maka's desk.

"Thank you," Maka answered lightly, giving the younger female a soft smile. Tsugumi blushed slightly, got up from the chair, then went to her own office at the other end of the apartment.

"T-then, excuse me!" Agitation was evident in her voice as she closed herself inside her office.

Maka sat still for a while, stared at her desk, where things were placed neatly and in an order that made it easy for her to find things, while trying to pull strings of information together.

If the murderer was a male in his twenties, like she suspected, it would be a lot easier to find out who he was. Also, if her suspicion on the murderer being a Weapon was right as well, it would be even easier. She would just have to visit Shibusen and search through their archives to find the person that best fit the description. Then, she'd have the murderer and all his information, black on white paper. But it was sort of odd how easy this sounded. You'd think a murderer of this caliber would hide himself better.

"Um, Maka-chan?"

Maka stopped her inward ranting and looked up at a very nervous Tsugumi.

"The person I was talking about earlier, your "admirer"? It seems that he wishes to meet you - it seems like he might be in need of our services, at least that is what I made of our conversation. You might have heard about him: Yamada Tenshi," Tsugumi said. Maka now noticed that the nervousness in Tsugumi wasn't an unpleasant one. Rather, Tsugumi was hoping that Maka would accept the guest. Sure, Maka had heard about Tenshi before. Quite the pianist and musician. One of his pieces was actually on her favourite play-list right now.

"Yes, I've heard of him," Maka answered, smiling enthusiastically.

"Actually, I would be honoured if I could meet him. I've always admired his music."

Tsugumi squealed, then blushed and giggled.

"Sorry, it's just that I've heard so much about him. And he's supposed to be really handsome as well."

"I don't know about that," Maka replied, still smiling. She had never seen a picture of Tenshi, so she wouldn't know.

"But if he wants to visit us, he is free to do so. You have his number, right?"

Tsugumi nodded quickly, making her black hair jump up and down on her head.

"Then you should give him a call. Ask him if Friday is alright – we don't have any customers that day - not yet, at least."

"Okay, I'll give him a call tomorrow," Tsugumi mumbled, and returned to her office, leaving the doors open this time.

I guess I'd better call Shibusen Academy and ask if I could search their archive, Maka resolved in her head, then reached for the phone and dialed the number.

"Whizzup?" That was Shinigami-sama alright.

"Hello, this is Maka Albarn speaking."

"Ah~, Maka-kun. How unexpected and extremely pleasant to get a call from you."

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you in your work, Shinigami-sama."

It was good to hear that voice again, she'd missed it quite a lot these past years after graduating from Shibusen.

"Not at all, Maka-kun. What can I do for you?"

"Actually, there is a favor I need to ask of you. Would you consider it if I asked you to search through certain files in your archive over students?"

"I'm not sure if that is legal."

"It probably isn't, but if I want to get to the bottom of this murder case going on in Death City, it is a necessity that I find possible suspects. Right now, the description we have is a male in his twenties. He should be a Weapon."

"I see... Maka-kun, you do realize that the material in those archives can be sensitive and personal? Thus, you would be trespassing on someone's privacy." Shinigami-sama sounded worried now. Maka nodded, even though he wasn't there to see it.

"I know. I promise that whatever information I find will be hidden unless one of the students are, in fact, the murderer."

"Then I suppose I could give you some access. And you will be accompanied by the Archive Wielder, Thom, during the whole time you are down there."

"Thank you, Shinigami-sama. I am indebted to you, sir."

Somehow, she managed to keep a straight face through the rest of the conversation. When they finally hung up, she sighed in relief and smiled triumphantly.

_Yes! Thursday afternoon, I'll be granted access to the needed files! Go Maka!_

"Tsugumi-chan! Do you think you'll be fine alone Thursday afternoon? I've got some important business to take care of," Maka said loudly, and Tsugumi gave her the 'OK' sign over her paperwork. That girl was busy informing the higher-ups about the information. A smile of acknowledgment and pride for her 'kouhai' grew on Maka's lips.

She rose up and walked over to one of the bookshelves on the east wall of her office. A collection of books she loved caught her interest: Sherlock Holmes. Since she'd done most of this weeks paperwork already, Maka decided to read a little. She picked the book closest to her, then went over to the chair in the corner – it was placed in front of the window facing the small department garden that came with Maka and Tsugumi's office. They didn't have any need for it, but it was refreshing to be able to go outside during hot summers and rest a bit on the stone bench in the shade of the young oak tree. Maka was already looking forward to that time of the year.

She sat down in the chair, looked outside for a moment, then opened the book and settled her mind on the words, characters and events in the book. Clever lines of thoughts, excellent plot and twists, witty characters and, all in all, a fine piece of literature. The purity of the words in the book pulled Maka right in and held her captive. It wasn't until Tsugumi came in that Maka realized how long she'd been sitting there. It was already 00.38 AM.

"I'd best be heading home now, Maka-chan."

"Got it. I'll be heading home soon as well. Did you lock the window in your office and the restroom?"

"Yes. Are you sure you'll be fine alone? After what happened at that time..."

Maka froze and rewound the scene from two years ago in her head, before shaking her head and coughing.

"I'm over that now, I'll be fine. You can go ahead and go home," she answered in a flat tone. Tsugumi's face turned a little whiter. Bowing, then leaving quickly, Tsugumi mumbled something about 'sorry', but Maka didn't take note of it. It wasn't important anymore, that incident.  
>Maka waited until Tsugumi had closed the door before looking out the window. The leaves were going to cover the grass completely soon. Maybe she should use her free time next morning to rake and make the garden look nicer?<p>

Sighing, she rose up and went to put the book back in place. She'd better get a move on as well, or she'd have trouble with waking up the next morning.

-*- (AGAIN?)

"Maka-chan? Your visitor is here," Tsugumi said, popping her head inside Maka's office. The blond woman looked up and smiled a welcoming smile.

"Oh, good. Let him in," she answered, signed a sheet of paper and put her pen down. A tall shadow entered the room. She didn't look up at first, but when she did, she already regretted on agreeing to meet him. Because this man was absolutely attractive to her, and she didn't need that. He was certainly tall, maybe a few feet taller than herself. His skin was a bit tanned, and his hair was completely white in comparison. She looked up to meet his gaze, and was captivated. Crimson red eyes. She'd met this man before. She knew him.

"Soul 'Eater' Evans, is that really you?" she asked, then realized what she'd done and shut her mouth. He looked sort of stunned for a short while, stopping in his tracks, then he smiled and went over to sit in the seat she motioned with her hand for him to sit down in.

"Nothing fools you, eh? Maka. I guess my artist name is very easy to see through," he said, sitting down in the chair. She shook her head.

"Not at all, Soul. You've had me fooled for many years. I've always listened to your music..." she said, blushing a little as she said so. They sat silent for a while after he'd thanked her, then she shook her head and smiled.

"So, I guess you aren't really my fan, then? Is there some other reason for your visit?"

He smirked.

"You know, maybe I really am your fan," he said, making her blush even more, "or maybe I missed you and wanted to see you."

She met his gaze, and caught the playfulness in his eyes. She smiled.

"It's good to see you again," she said. He nodded.

"It's really good seeing you again, too, Maka." Pause again.

"But you know, I didn't only come here because I'm your fan and because I missed you," he said. His bangs were hiding his eyes as he said the next sentence.

"The reason that I'm here is the murder case you're working on. I want to partake in the investigation."

* * *

><p><strong>So, what do you guys think? I'm falling more and more in love with my plot when I write this, and I love the villian character for some odd reason. Oh, wait, it's not odd. Anyways, for now, this is all I've got. It's not finished, it's just a draft. I just put some space between the sentences to give the text some air, but I haven't done any extra checks on grammar or anything like that. This is sort of to make a setting for the whole thing.<strong>

**And to all those that have commented and favorited - thank you so much! Nothing is more satisfying or pleasing than your feedback and support! It feels good to know that someone notices and enjoys my stories after the time I put into my writing! **


	6. Cry

**Cry**

If there was one thing Soul Evans didn't do, it was comforting people that cried. He'd never done it before, and he wasn't really planning on doing it in the future. Then he met her and everything changed. Suddenly, he felt that he could... that he wanted to be there. When she laughed, when she cried, whatever feelings she might have. He wanted to be there and support her, keep her safe and comfort her.

It was one of those rare incidents. Maka would come home late, sit on the couch and stare at the empty table. Her eyes would seem apathetic, as if she wasn't really there, or that she didn't want to be there. Usually, Soul would leave her alone, let her think and come to a conclusion on her own. No matter how much he wanted to ask, he and Maka had this unsaid rule that you don't interfere in the other person's private thoughts unless they want you to. Usually, Soul would simply place any sort of non-alcoholic liquid in front of her, then leave the room and Maka to her own thoughts. It was different this time.

There could be several factors that made Maka act like she did this time. It could be because of her father or mother or both, maybe because of a bad score on a test, or simply because the book she had her eyes on for a long time was sold out when she finally had the money to buy it. But none of this mattered. They weren't worth considering, for Maka wouldn't tell him the cause of her distress. Ever.

"Here you go," said Soul quietly, placing a can of soda in front of her. Not really registering the can, Maka looked up. Something in her eyes flashed, as if the can brought up memories she had trouble dealing with. It was all Soul could do to not ask her what was wrong. He was about to exit the living room when he was stopped by a subtle tightening of his shirt round his torso and right arm. Turning slightly, he saw the tears of his Meister. Maybe it was impulse. Maybe it was the whole awkwardness or foolish feel of the situation. Maybe it was because he wanted to break their norm of staying away. No matter, his arms were around her before another second passed.

Propping herself against his shoulder and sliding her arms up around Soul's neck and locking them at his back, Maka sighed deeply. Soul knew from the way she sighed that she was going to crack soon. That he was going to be stuck on that couch for hours. And most importantly; that he didn't mind. As sobs started to rock her body, Soul decided that running his fingers through her hair like she did when she was upset or stressed about school was the best way to comfort her. So he did. Running his finger through her hair until it came loose from her pigtails, her not minding. Untangling her hair with his fingers and then brushing her head gently with his fingertips.

"Don't ask," she instructed through a sob, and he nodded. The rule was still intact, even if he held her and let her cry herself dry. Even if he ran his fingers through her hair. Even if the reason for her crying might be as serious as a death, the rule was not to be broken.

"I know better than to do that," came his reply, which seemed to soothe her somewhat. Easing up in his arms, Maka rode out her sorrows through sobs and tears that drenched his shoulder. Never asking questions, Soul let her. Not once did he say anything, didn't try to soothe or encourage her with words. Actions were enough. Holding her was enough for both. Then, when she was done with her crying, they sat still, letting the impact of what had happened between them materialize in their brains.

Limp after crying her heart out, Maka whispered soft and broken 'thank you's into Soul's neck. Of which he replied with quiet murmurs of 'no problem' and words promising that he would always be there when she needed him. No words needed or demanded.

After that, the two spent the evening watching TV and drinking many cans of soda. They debated on marriage, relationships in particular, children, school, then moved over to political things. Then, after a while, they would go back to debating about relationships - friendship, love, happiness, sadness, hatred. Then they settled in the couch, huddled together and tired of discussing. Maka drifted to sleep - exhausted after her day, her crying her, her feelings - and left Soul to his thoughts.

He couldn't help but wonder what had caused her crying, but he managed to push the thought to the back of his head before he was overwhelmed by the warmth and sleepiness of his partner. There was one thing Soul knew and held onto before sleep claimed him:

He hadn't broken the rule - he didn't ask what was on her mind. She didn't tell him. However, their rule seemed to have changed after that incident. If Maka was upset, Soul wouldn't ask, but he would be there to comfort her regardless - and vice-versa.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope this ended up well :) I hope I didn't mess up, my "clever-computer" crashed, leaving me with no grammar correction program.**

**To those that have been PM'ing me about Aka Oni and read this as well - I'm sorry I'm taking such a long time on updating! I am just about done, but my computer (with all my grammar correction etc programs) crashed, so I have to borrow my brother's old one. That's why it's taking such a long time :(**

**And to those that don't know what Aka Oni is: its the continuation of chapter 5: Monster. ;P**


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